be careful what you wish for

Here we have one of those weird new-millenium moments. Mostly thanks to Burning Man, my love life has taken a turn for the pleasantly complicated, but there are so many moms and lovers and friends and friends' moms and moms' friends and lovers' friends and friends' lovers and lovers' friends' moms and would-be lovers and their moms and friends and lovers, all with access to my blog, that discretion--what little I may claim--would seem to be the order of the day. Okay, there aren't really all that many lovers--just enough to make up for any inadequacies I may have felt as a dateless teenager, and then a lot of everybody else. But you catch my point.

It was a bit more than a year ago, Snufkina reminds me, that I sat in her little red car speeding over the Bay Bridge and explained that I really didn't think I could do the poly thing. She likes reminding me of this. It cracks her up. I mean, a lot of things crack her up, which is a small part of her much greater appeal, but that statement in particular I am never going to live down.

So suffice it to say, for now, that I have some really top-flight people in my life, in whatever capacity they serve, and I am grateful for it.

And a tiny bit sore.